April Fool's Day
by Tikatu
Summary: What's April Fool's Day without a prank from Gordon?
1. The prank planned and performed

_Author's Note: _What's April Fool's Day without a prank from Gordon? Here's a "Tracy's as kids" fic. Lucille is still alive as I'm going with the comic book timeline (she dies in an avalanche a year before Jeff decides to create IR). And my ages are the original ones from the series. Thanks to killhill2003 for seeing a plot boo-boo. I fixed it.

_Disclaimer: _Don't own them, just writing about them. Any and all original characters (of which there should be none in this one) are mine. See my bio about hotlinking or downloading.

Enjoy.

Tikatu

* * *

"Hey, do you know what today is?" Ten-year-old Gordon Tracy asked his younger brother, nine-year-old Alan as they rode the bus to school. 

Alan groaned. "Yeah, I know. I was hoping _you'd _forget."

"Me, forget April Fool's Day? No way!" Gordon exclaimed. "Now, what do we want to do today and who will be our victim? Mwahahaha!" He rubbed his hands as he laughed a fake maniacal laugh.

Alan rolled his eyes. "Nothing to nobody. Gords, every year you do this and every year _we _get pounded. Or paddled, depending on who you pull the prank on. Can't we go this year _without_ a prank?" he pleaded in a whining voice.

"Huh? No prank! Whatchu talkin' 'bout? It's a tradition. April Fool's Day and pranks are like peanut butter and jelly, like Laurel and Hardy, like Abbott and Costello..."

"Who?"

"Who's on first."

Alan rolled his eyes, and shook his head, and sighed an exasperated sigh. "Sometimes I don't understand you."

Gordon grinned. "That's okay. You don't have to." He rubbed his hands again. "Now what are we gonna do? The water over the door trick?"

"That didn't work. You sloshed water on the outside of the pail and it dripped down the door and Virgil saw the drip before he opened the door."

"Hmm. You have a point, young grasshopper. Maybe the fake spiders in the bed trick?"

"Scott didn't even notice them."

"Yeah. He's got some thick skin, doesn't he? How about the snake in the candy can bit?"

"Mom got hold of that one and when Dad was through with us, I couldn't sit down for two days!"

Gordon grimaced. "Oh, yeah. I remember that." He rubbed his behind absently at the memory. Then a smile lit his face. "Well, I guess that leaves John as our victim, doesn't it?"

"John? What can you do to him?" Alan asked, scratching his head.

"Don't worry. I'll think of something."

The school day passed quickly. Gordon's teacher had to address him sharply a couple of times during the day because he was so absorbed in trying to think up a good prank to play on his thirteen-year-old brother. Alan quickly forgot about Gordon's obsession in the routine of school, but the gleam in his brother's eye as they got on the bus brought it back to him in a hurry.

"I got it! I got it!" Gordon whispered, wriggling in his seat with excitement.

"Gords, I don't wanna know, and I don't want to do it, no matter what it is," Alan said stoutly. "I wanna be able to say to Dad that I didn't do it and have him believe me."

Gordon waved a dismissive hand. "You don't have to do anything but keep John busy and away from his room. That's all."

"Isn't that enough?" Alan whined.

"Alan, just do it," Gordon insisted. "I promise, I'll tell Dad you had nothing to do with it. It was all my idea." His tone changed, and his eyes narrowed. "Besides, if you don't, I'll tell Virgil who ate up the last of his Milky Way stash."

"That's not fair!" Alan shouted.

Gordon shushed him, glancing around furtively at the other children, some of whom were looking their way with curiosity. "Just help me out a little, Al. Just keep John busy and away from his room. You can do it all innocent like. Ask him to help you with your math or your spelling; you know he'll go for that."

"Oh, all right," Alan huffed. "I'll do that." He stuck his index finger in Gordon's face. "But only that. I don't even want to know what you're doing."

"Deal!" Gordon said with a grin, holding out his hand. Alan reluctantly shook it, and for the rest of the trip they sat quietly, the fourth-grader looking delighted, and the third-grader looking as if he were going to his doom.

They got off at their stop, and Gordon ran home, while Alan walked slowly behind him. The redhead barreled through the front door, slamming it as he passed. He slung his backpack to the floor just inside the entryway, and hurried to the kitchen. Lucille was there, preparing dinner.

"What's for supper, Mom?" he asked as he opened the fridge to rummage around.

"Meatloaf and baked potatoes," she replied, her hands gooey from mixing the meat and crumbs. "You can have a piece of fruit for a snack. No cookies."

"Aw, Mom!" he cried. "Why no cookies?"

"Because your father is due home tonight and he hasn't had any," came the swift reply. "A piece of fruit, Gordon."

"Oh, okay," he said sullenly. He pulled out an apple and began to munch on it.

Lucille looked at him sharply. "Where's Alan?"

"Oh, he's coming. He was being a slow-poke," her second youngest replied airily.

Just then, Alan trudged into the kitchen. "Hi, Mom," he said in a woeful voice.

"Alan? Are you all right?" she asked, quickly rinsing off her hands and wiping them on a paper towel. She put the back of her hand to Alan's forehead. "You don't seem feverish."

"I'm okay, Mom," Alan said, sighing. "I just need a snack."

"A piece of fruit, that's what Mom told me," Gordon jumped in quickly. Alan nodded and grabbed an orange, then started to peel it.

"How was your day, Alan? Gordon?" Lucille asked as she went back to shaping the meatloaf in the baking pan.

"Mine was fine," Gordon said with a grin.

"Okay, I guess," Alan replied. He brightened a bit, "We're going to have a field trip to a historic battleground, Mom. I have the form in my backpack."

"Good. Bring it to me and I'll sign it, then put it on the family calendar," she responded, glad to see her youngest smiling.

The front screen door banged shut, and a moment or two later, Scott, nearly eighteen and a senior in high school, entered the kitchen. "Hi, Mom. Hey, squirts." He detoured to give his mother a kiss on the cheek, then opened the fridge and began rummaging around. He was followed by Virgil, a high school freshman at fifteen.

"You can have fruit to snack on, boys," Lucille informed her two oldest. She glanced around. "Where's John?"

"Track practice," Virgil replied, easily fielding the apple that Scott tossed to him.

"Yeah. I said I'd pick him up at five," Scott explained.

"Oh, good. Your father's due back tonight. He said he was planning on being home for your birthday, Scott."

"Great! Can we go out to that steak place I like?" he asked before taking a huge bite of apple. He chewed it some, then spoke again, spitting little bits of apple out as he did. "After all, I'll only be eighteen once."

"That's what you said when you turned sixteen," Lucille said wryly. "And please finish what's in your mouth before you speak."

"Is it?" Scott asked after swallowing the bite of apple. "I don't remember; it was sooo long ago..."

The boys chuckled as their mother shook her head. "Get your homework done, boys," she instructed.

"Okay, Mom." "Sure, Mom." "I'm on it." "Later, Mom!"

The four boys filed out, Alan stopping to throw away his orange peels. Virgil motioned for him to keep the trash can lid open. "He stops. He shoots. He scores! And the crowd goes wild!" he repeated as he tossed his core into the trash can from a distance. He then stepped over to Alan, clapped the younger boy on the shoulder, and they left the room together.

Gordon was already at his desk in the room he and Alan shared when the younger boy arrived. "John's at track practice! Now you don't have to do a thing, except maybe warn me if someone's coming," the older boy crowed. "And what I plan..."

"I don't wanna know what your plan is, Gords. I'll keep watch, but you better be fast," Alan warned.

"Don't worry. I'll be quick. C'mon." The two boys left their room and headed down the hall. They saw that the doors to the older boys' rooms were shut. Suddenly, music blared from Scott's room, loud and with a heavy beat. "Great! Now no one will hear us!" Gordon gleefully whispered. "We need to go downstairs for a minute."

"Why?" Alan whispered back.

"I need the stepladder."

Alan shook his head again as the two boys padded downstairs in stocking feet. Alan stood in the dining room while Gordon boldly made a beeline for the utility closet beyond the kitchen, pulling out the lightweight, three-step ladder that lay against the wall in there. He also pulled out a light bulb.

"What's the matter, honey?" Lucille asked, looking up from wrapping potatoes in foil.

"A light bulb's out in our room," Gordon brazenly explained.

"Why don't you ask Scott or Virgil to help change it?"

"I did. Virgil asked me to get the stepladder."

"Oh, okay. Put it away when you're done with it."

"I will, Mom." And with that the redheaded rogue carried it off and up the stairs, followed by Alan.

"You just lied to Mom!" Alan hissed, his eyes big.

"No, I didn't. You watch. But first, John's room. Keep an eye out, okay?"

Alan stood in the hall while Gordon disappeared into John's bedroom, closing the door carefully behind him. The blond fidgeted for a bit, then went into the hall bathroom to get a drink of water. And another. And another. And another. Between each tiny cup of water, he peered out into the hall, looking back and forth. But Virgil and Scott didn't budge from their rooms, and the loud music, which Scott would never dare to play if John, a believer in quiet study, were home, continued to boom from the oldest boy's stereo.

Finally, Gordon came out. He went right down the hall into their bedroom and left the stepladder there, then ducked into the bathroom, Alan trailing him all the way.

"What are you doing now?" the younger boy asked.

"Just a finishing touch," Gordon said with a grin. He pulled out a tin of something from beneath the sink, palming it so that Alan couldn't see what it was. "The less you know, the better," he told his brother, and he disappeared into John's room once more. Alan fidgeted in the hall again, and thought about another drink, when Gordon came out. He passed Alan, tossed the tin back in under the sink, and washed his hands, scrubbing them well. "Go turn off the light in our room," he ordered. Alan left to follow instructions, while Gordon knocked on Virgil's door.

"What?" Virgil asked peevishly. He had his headphones on and his tiny music player in his hand.

"Uh, there's a light out in our room," Gordon said, almost apologetically. "Can you change it for us?"

Virgil sighed a long suffering sigh. "Okay. I'll need the little stepladder."

"Got that."

"And a fresh light bulb."

"Got that, too."

"Okay, I'm coming." the teen ducked back in his room and took off his player, then followed Gordon down the hall. "Which bulb is it?"

"Uh, I'll show you."

Virgil nodded, and carefully took the glass globe off the light fixture, handing it to Gordon. He touched the light bulbs, and drew his hands away quickly. "Ouch! These are still hot! When did this happen, Gords?"

"Just a few minutes ago."

"Okay, which one is it?"

"The one on your... left."

Virgil carefully unscrewed the bulb and replaced it with the fresh bulb that Alan wordlessly handed him. Then he fitted the globe back up where it belonged. "There. All done. Alan, turn on the lights, please?"

"Okay." Alan did as he was told, and both bright light bulbs shone behind the glass.

Virgil climbed down from the stepladder. "I've got to get back to my homework. Will you take care of the stepladder and the old bulb?"

"Sure, Virge. No problem," Gordon said, grinning.

Virgil reached out to ruffle his hair. "Great." He sighed again. "Back to the salt mines." With that, he turned and left, heading for his own room.

Gordon took the stepladder and the bulb downstairs and put the ladder where it belonged and the light bulb in the trash. Lucille was washing her preparation dishes. "That took a while."

"Virgil was in the middle of some important homework. We had to wait until he was through," Gordon prevaricated.

"But it's all done now?"

"Yeah. It is. Gotta get back to the homework."

"Okay, sweetie. Oh, remind Scott he said he'd pick up John."

"I will."

Upon his arrival back upstairs, Gordon pounded on Scott's door. The music was immediately muted, and a moment later, Scott stood in his doorway, an irritated look on his face.

Gordon was unfazed. "Mom told me to remind you to pick up John."

Scott ran a hand through his hair and looked back at his alarm clock. Then he turned back to Gordon. "Thanks, squirt. I'll get going in a few minutes."

The redhead returned to his room and found Alan hard at work on his math assignment. Gordon picked up his spelling book, pulled out a pencil, and sat down at his desk. Without glancing over, the younger boy asked, "So, what did you do?"

"Not telling." The older boy twisted around to face the younger. "You're the one who didn't want to get into trouble. I'm just making sure you don't."

He could hear Alan huff. "Okay, I guess," the blond said. Gordon grinned. Not only had he pulled off a cool prank, but Alan was burning up with curiosity and that was icing on the cake.

TBC...


	2. The prank revealed and retribution

_Author's Note: _Here's the rest of it, the prank and the fallout from it. I hope you've enjoyed this little slice of Tracy home life. I know that meatloaf is probably not what an up-and-coming millionaire/billionaire would eat; but I figure, hey, maybe they like it! John may be a touch OOC, but then, he's a teenager here, and kids can be bit more volatile at that age (I should know; I have one).

_Disclaimer: _Don't own them, just writing about them. Any and all original characters (of which there should be none in this one) are mine. See my bio about hotlinking or downloading.

Enjoy.

Tikatu

* * *

Scott returned with John to find their father's car sitting in the driveway. 

"Hey, Dad's home!" John exclaimed as he hurried into the house. Scott grinned and followed at a more sedate pace. When he entered the house, he found his father and his mother with their lips locked on each other's mouths, their arms around each other. Jeff hadn't even taken off his overcoat, though he did take the time to drop his briefcase and travel bag by the door. One hand still held a bouquet of red roses, Lucille's favorites. John stood just watching, rolling his eyes and folding his arms as he waited with exaggerated patience for his parents to finish greeting each other and acknowledge his presence.

At last the couple came up for air, and Lucille whispered, "Welcome home, love." To which Jeff replied, "It's good to be home."

He pulled the bouquet out from behind her back, where it had ended up during their clinch and presented it to her with a flourish. She coquettishly at him, and said, "Thank you, Jeff. They're lovely!"

"Not as lovely as you are, Lucy," he responded. They shared one more short kiss, then Lucille made motions that she was heading to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase. Jeff nodded, and took the time to remove his overcoat, watching her swinging hips as she disappeared from sight. He draped the garment over his arm, turned, and was confronted by the sight of two sons, the younger shaking his head in disbelief, the elder grinning from ear to ear.

"Hello, boys!" Jeff exclaimed happily. He reached out to pull John to him in a sideways hug, then offered a hand to Scott. John colored pink with the attention, but Scott, still grinning, shook his father's hand and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Good to have you home, Dad!" Scott said.

Jeff let go of John, and moved to the coat closet. He pulled out a hanger, and draped his overcoat on it, then hung it up. "It's good to be home. These business trips are beginning to wear on me."

"How was Australia?" John asked, putting his hands in his pockets.

"It was profitable. Got to see a lot of Sydney and Melbourne, but didn't have time for much else," Jeff admitted. He took in a deep, appreciative breath and let it out with an audible, "Ahhh! Nothing like the smell of home cooking." He glanced from son to son. "Do you know what we're having for dinner?"

"Meatloaf and baked potatoes," Scott answered.

"Sounds great! How's the homework coming?"

John sighed and picked up his backpack. "I just got home from track practice so I've got lots of homework to do. I'd better get some done before supper. See you later."

"See you at the table, John. We can talk more then." Jeff waved as John headed upstairs. He turned to Scott. "How about you?"

"One more subject, but it's essay questions. I'd better get back to it."

"Right. And I'd better walk my dirty clothes back to the laundry room," Jeff said as he picked up his travel bag.

"See you at dinner, Dad."

"Okay, Scott."

John entered his room and threw his book bag down on the bed. He had a corner bedroom, right next to Scott's, and in the corner where it could easily see out of either window, was his beloved telescope. He often spent hours looking out at the stars or the moon if she was full. He wasn't sure if he'd have time tonight. but he hoped to. Pulling out his science book, he got down to work.

A half hour later, Lucille stood at the bottom of the stairs and called, "Dinner's ready!" She was answered by a loud thumping of boys' feet as they raced down to the first floor and into the dining room. Jeff was already there, dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, bringing in a bowl piled high with baked potatoes.

"Dad!" Alan cried. "You're home!" He grabbed Jeff around the waist and squeezed.

"Wait a minute, Alan. Let me put this bowl down." Alan backed off and Jeff set the bowl on the table, then opened his arms to his youngest son. After a strong, brief hug, Jeff's arms opened again to Gordon, who responded with a grin. When they parted, Jeff ruffled his hair, and Alan's, and clapped Virgil on the shoulder. "Good to see you, boys. You'll have to tell me what you've been up to over dinner."

"Come on now, boys. Time to set the table," Lucy reminded them.

The younger boys scurried around to accomplish their task. Alan brought in utensils, Gordon set up the glasses, and John put plates at each place. Scott went out to bring in juice and milk to drink, while Virgil grabbed the butter, sour cream, and other items that they would add to their baked potatoes. Lucille brought in the meatloaf, and set it down on a trivet near her place. Then she went back out and fetched a bowl of cooked green beans to add to the menu. The bustle settled down after a few moments as the boys took their places. Jeff pulled Lucy's chair out for her, and then sat down at the head of the table. He picked up the bowl of beans, and spooned some out on Alan's plate, and began to pass the less dangerous items around. The boys passed their plates to Lucy so she could dish out the piping hot meatloaf.

The conversation at the table was lively and though it mostly concerned Jeff's trip to Australia, the other family members each had something to discuss. John chipped in about his practice after school. Alan piped up about his upcoming field trip. Virgil discussed the pieces he had planned for his recital. Scott got teased about Phyllis Childers, a girl at school who was pursuing him, even though he'd made it clear that he wasn't interested. Lucy gave Jeff the latest news from their extended family, including his mother, who had called the day before. "Make sure you call her back after dinner, Jeff," she warned him. "She thinks you've fallen into the Pacific again."

Jeff shook his head. "She'll never get over that training exercise, will she?"

"No, dear, she probably won't. She always felt that she should have been notified along with me while you were stranded on that island. But the policy was, in the case of married couples, the spouse is the only one given any information." Lucy forked up a bite of green bean, chewed and swallowed. "I'll never forget that time. Those were the longest eleven weeks of my life!"

"I think I might have been out there longer if Virgil hadn't been in such a hurry to be born," Jeff said, taking Lucy's hand and kissing it (to the accompanying groans and fake retching noises of their offspring).

"How much longer will you have to travel, Dad?" Virgil asked. "I mean, the company's doing well now, isn't it?"

"Yes, son, it is. But I'm not quite ready to hand the face-to-face contacts off to anyone else just yet. Another year or so and I think that Tracy Aerospace will have made a name for itself, and I can take over a desk at headquarters instead of traveling the world like a salesman." He turned to Scott. "Any more news on your college search, Scott?"

"Uh, yeah, Dad," Scott said, looking embarrassed. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand as he continued. "I, uh, heard from Yale the other day. They, uh, accepted me."

There was a pleased outcry from the parents, and a surprised one from Virgil and John. "That's terrific, son!" Jeff said, beaming at his eldest. "Congratulations!"

"Uh, yeah. Thanks, Dad." Scott stammered. "I'm still kinda in shock about it."

Lucille was smiling a proud smile at her firstborn. "Well, then, Scott. Looks like we'll have to go to that steak place you like so much. It will be a big celebration! Your eighteenth birthday and your acceptance at Yale!"

"Mmm, yeah, I guess so. Thanks, Mom," Scott replied, still looking rather abashed at the attention.

Lucille turned to Virgil. "Thank you, Virgil, for helping the younger boys out with their blown light bulb today. It was generous of you."

Virgil shrugged. "It was no big deal, Mom. Gordon had everything ready for me, and he took care of everything afterwards.

This statement caused Lucille to frown and glance over at Gordon, but the redhead was busy eating and sharing a joke with Alan.

Dinner was soon over, and the boys cleared the table, scraping the plates and loading the dishwasher. Virgil and Scott offered to wash the few pots and pans, giving their mother a break. Delighted with their offer, Lucy went to the living room to put her feet up, while Jeff took the time to call his mother.

Once his kitchen chores were through, John went back upstairs to resume work on his assignments. He was a good all-around student, and was taking honors courses, which both challenged him and piled on the homework. As a result, he could hear the tub running for the younger boys' baths before he hit his third subject, and he was finishing up his fourth when Jeff knocked on his door.

"Come in!"

Jeff opened the door and stuck his head in. "Almost time for bed, son."

John turned to him with pleading eyes. "I've only got one more subject, Dad. Can I please stay up a bit later to finish it? You know I would have been done hours ago if not for track practice."

Jeff pushed the door open a bit further, and stepped into the room, leaning on the door frame and folding his arms. "Is track getting in the way of your studies, John? You know that I don't like sports putting any of my boys behind in their academics."

"No, Dad. It isn't. Really. It's just that the teachers piled on the homework today, that's all." He gave his father another pleading look. "I've been keeping my grades up. Don't make me drop track. Please?"

Jeff sighed, then nodded. "As long as you're keeping up with your grades, _and_ getting enough sleep. That's important, too, you know."

"I know, Dad."

"How much longer do you think it will take?"

"Another half hour?"

"Okay. Half an hour. Then I expect you to be in bed. And I will check up on you. No spending all night stargazing. Wait until Friday when you don't have to get up for school."

"Right, Dad."

Jeff smiled. "Good. Get to it, John."

"Thanks, Dad," John said, returning the smile.

The assignment took only 20 minutes, and John spent a couple of minutes getting ready for bed. He took a moment or two to look out of his telescope, hoping to see Venus or even Jupiter. He didn't see them, but he did find Mars in the sky, and it made him smile. Then, exhausted from his long day, he flung himself onto his bed and was asleep in moments. Jeff, opening the door before he himself retired, saw the blond head and the pajama-clad body and whispered, "Goodnight, John."

Jeff padded down the hall to his room, to find the bed already turned down, and Lucille waiting for him, dressed in a silken lavender chemise. He cupped her face in his hand and kissed her once, twice, then again, each kiss deeper and more passionate than the first. He pulled his shirt over his head, took off his jeans, and crawled into bed with her. She traced the line of his jaw with a finger.

"Do you know what day it is?" she asked, her voice sultry and husky at the same time.

Jeff blinked. "Uh, actually no. The International Date line always messes me up. Is it April second?"

Lucy shook her head. "No, April first. And do you know what?"

"No, what?"

"I think that we went the whole day without Gordon playing any pranks at all."

Jeff's eyes grew wide with surprise. "Really? That's unusual."

"Yes, it is. I think I could learn to like having a quiet April Fool's Day."

He ran his finger down her shoulder, pushing aside the thin strap of the chemise. "So could I, as long as I spent it with you."

xxxx

John tossed and turned on his bed, and woke up, shivering. Groggily, he got up and pulled back his covers, nestling beneath them. He sleepily looked up at his ceiling looking for the familiar constellations that resided there. When he became deeply interested in astronomy but before he was deemed old enough to have a telescope, he begged his father to paint the ceiling of his room black, then purchase some stick on stars that glowed in the dark so he could have the night sky in his room. He and Jeff had carefully arranged the stars into the constellations of the northern hemisphere, using different sizes to indicate brighter or lesser stars. It was sight that John rarely tired of, though with the gift of his telescope it had faded into lesser importance than seeing the real thing.

He gazed upward once, his eyes half closed, then he rolled over onto his side, snuggling into his blankets. Suddenly, what he had actually seen registered on his sleepy brain, and he rubbed his eyes, trying to make sense of what his mind was telling him. He turned over, looked up at the ceiling, and shouted hoarsely, "Aaaaaugggghhh!"

Jeff and Lucille, lying in each other's arms and talking softly after their pleasure, were startled to hear the cry. They looked at each other.

"Which one was that?" Jeff asked.

Lucy listened for a repeat, but none was forthcoming. Instead there was the sound of a slamming door, and feet pounding down the hallway of the floor above. She listened again, and said, "I think it was John. The footsteps were coming from either his or Scott's room but are too light to be Scott's."

There was another cry, from a different throat, and Jeff rolled out of bed, grabbing his briefs and sliding into them. He then found his bathrobe, and put it on as he headed up the stairs. Lucille slid her chemise over her head, grabbed her most modest robe, and followed.

The light was on in Gordon and Alan's room, and there were raised voices. "Hey, John! Stop it!" Gordon cried. Scott ran down the hall and into his little brothers' room, passing by the top of the stairs as his parents made their way up. Virgil fell in behind Jeff and Lucille as they entered the boys' room, now crowded with most of the family standing within.

"Scott, let John go." Jeff took charge of the situation. Scott, who had been holding onto the arms of a seething John, let go, then folded his arms across his chest. Jeff looked from son to son. Gordon was sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck. Alan was sitting bolt upright in bed, his face showing his shock. John's face was red, and both hands were clenched fists.

"What's going on here?" Lucy demanded to know.

Three voices, Scott's, John's, and Gordon's, blended with explanations and accusations, hands waving for emphasis until Jeff bellowed, "Enough!" He turned to his oldest son first. "Scott?"

"I heard John yelling, almost screaming, in his room. Then his door slammed and he went running down the hall. Took me a minute to find my bathrobe, but by the time I did, he was in here. He'd dragged Gordon out of bed and was yelling and shaking him."

"Hmm. Gordon?"

The redhead looked at his parent, then at his still angry older brother. "He just came in here and pulled me out of bed by the shirt. He was yelling something and he started shaking me." He rubbed his neck again. "That hurt!"

"Alan? You saw what happened?"

Alan looked down at his two next-oldest brothers, then over at his father. "Well, it's pretty much as Gordon says it was. I was sleeping and then John turned on the light and started yelling. He pulled Gordon out of bed and grabbed his shirt and shook him."

Jeff looked behind him. "Virgil, do you have anything to add?"

The second oldest Tracy son gave his father a sheepish look and ran a hand through his chestnut hair. "Uh, no, Dad. I didn't hear a thing. I just got up to use the bathroom and I saw the commotion."

Jeff and Lucy exchanged exasperated glances. Virgil was well known as the son who could sleep through anything.

At last, Jeff turned his attention to John, who had managed to calm down somewhat knowing that his turn to explain things was coming. "What happened, John? We heard you yell. What made you come in here and shake your brother?"

John turned to them, and Lucy stepped over to him, frowning. "What's that on your right eye, John? Is it a bruise?" She took his chin and turned his face up to the light. "No, it's not a bruise. It looks like..." her gaze flicked over to Gordon, "...shoe polish."

Jeff covered his eyes with one hand and muttered, "So much for a quiet April Fool's day." He passed his hand over the rest of his face and asked, "Is this why you were shaking Gordon?"

John, who had now looked at himself in the mirror, glared at his next youngest brother. "No, Dad. I didn't see it at the time." Then he took a deep breath, and pushed his way through the knot of people and saying, "Let me show you."

They all followed the blond boy down the hall and into his room, Scott having a firm grip on Gordon. It was still dark in the room, which made the glow of the ceiling's stars very plain and evident. But instead of being spread in their constellations all over the room, they were clustered right over John's bed in a shape that wasn't immediately evident. John pointed to them, and triumphantly said, "That! That's what made me so mad!"

Jeff approached the bed, turning his head to one side and looking up, trying to make sense out of the pattern that had been created over John's bed. Finally, he had to lie down on the bed itself to see it. And when he did, he tried hard to stifle his laugh. He was partially successful; what would have been a loud and genuine laugh, came out as a strangled chuckle. But that one chuckle begat another, until Jeff was laughing at his red-haired son's audaciousness.

"It's not funny, Dad!" John insisted.

"I'm sorry, son, but I think it is rather amusing. Come here, Lucy, and see."

Lucille approached the bed, and Jeff moved over to make room for her. She lay down and looked, and a musical laugh rose up. "That is funny!" She glanced over at a crestfallen John. "Oh, don't worry, honey. We'll make sure that Gordon gets his comeuppance. But you have to admit, it's pretty clever."

"What is it, Mom?" Alan asked impatiently.

"Come and see."

Jeff got off the bed, and Alan laid down by his mother, gazing up at the ceiling. "Ooh, cool!"

"Let me see!" Virgil said. He joined Alan on the bed as Lucy got up to join Jeff. "Hey! Pretty artistic, squirt."

"Thanks!" Gordon said happily.

"Don't be so happy about it, Gordon. You'll be dismantling it and restoring the ceiling tomorrow after school," said Jeff, giving the boy a stern and withering look.

"So, what is this masterpiece of Gordon's?" Scott asked.

"Come look," Virgil said, nudging Alan off and getting up.

Scott handed Gordon off to his father, then plopped down on the bed. He began to chuckle. "I like the tongue sticking out the best. Great smiley face, Gordon. Too bad you'll have to take it apart. Can we get a picture of it?"

"I think that's going a little too far, Scott," Lucy said. "After all, we don't want to encourage this kind of behavior..."

"You're right," Scott said in agreement. He got off the bed. "So, what do we do with the little miscreants?"

"Hey! Don't include me in this!" Alan protested. "I didn't do anything wrong!"

"Dad, he didn't do anything and he didn't know what I was doing," Gordon added. "This was totally my idea and I did it all."

"Well, that explains why Virgil said that you had everything ready for him when your light bulb blew... or did it?" Lucille said, folding her arms. "You needed the stepladder, didn't you? The light bulb replacement was an excuse to get it without suspicion, wasn't it, Gordon?"

Gordon hung his head. "Yeah, it was." He looked up. "But Virgil really did replace our light bulb."

"That doesn't make the lie into truth, son," his mother explained. "I think we'll be dealing with the lying as much as with the prank you pulled."

"So, what are we going to do?" John asked. "I just can't sleep here with that... thing sticking its tongue out at me all night!"

"Oh, Gordon can sleep in here and you can have his bed," Jeff said. "Tomorrow, Gordon will rearrange the stars back into their constellations under your guidance, John. My only question is, how did you get shoe polish around your eye?"

"That's easy, Dad, and one of the oldest tricks in the book," Virgil piped up. He swiped his finger around the edge of the telescope's eye piece then showed his blackened digit to everyone.

"Ah, I see. Gordon can clean that off, too. Then we'll have a little talk about lying, won't we, son?" Jeff said, turning to the prankster.

"Yes, sir," the rogue replied, hanging his head.

"All right. We've seen enough. John, I'll help you wash that shoe polish off your face. Alan, Virgil, Scott, back to bed. Gordon, you're sleeping here," Lucille said. "Goodnight, everyone."

Everybody filed out, except for Gordon, who sat on the edge of John's bed. _It was a good prank, _he thought._ I didn't hurt anybody, and most everyone laughed at it, except John. Maybe if I hadn't lied about the stepladder... _He winced. _John is going to get even tomorrow, that's for sure!_

He climbed into John's bed and looked up at his handiwork. The giant glowing smiley with the big stars for eyes looked back down on him, impudently sticking out its tongue at him. He stuck his own tongue out at it and said softly, "April Fools!" Then he snuggled into the blankets and went back to sleep.


End file.
